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Over the months I’d been visiting the local hotel gym I’d hardly ever seen anyone my own age (mid 30s), mostly retired people having a swim or a gentle workout. Most business or younger people seemed to prefer late afternoon or evenings, although only ever visiting between 10am and 1pm I probably had a blinkered view of the exact membership.
One day, after completing my round of cycle, rower and treadmill and finishing off with the pool to myself for half a dozen lengths, a man with a Scottish accent joined me.
After an awkward silence as we both swam our separate routes, he asked “is it always this quiet.”
I replied that it usually was at this time, and we continued our swim.
I avoided any more conversation with him and then decided it was time I got out. Although I had successfully dieted I became a little conscious that perhaps he might look at me as I got out of the pool, and I wondered what he might think.
After deciding not to be so self-conscious I made the move and hurried to the changing rooms.
He was obviously a guest at the hotel as when I left he was confirming his room number to the receptionist, and as I walked down the corridor I saw that he had caught me up when I heard him ask “so is that the best time to swim here.”
I smiled and replied that I thought it became busier later in the day. He asked if I was a resident and I replied that I was on a daytime scheme where I could use it for up to 2 hours anytime between 10 and 3, and that I only came in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and occasionally Wednesdays.
He said that he was working down here and as he usually worked a late shift he sometimes got bored for things to do during the day.
We parted as he said “I might see you again then.”
My face felt a little flushed, was I being chatted up?
I tried to put him out of my mind as I went about my business and for the next few times I didn’t see him.
About 3 weeks later though I entered an otherwise empty gym and realised the only other person there was him.
Hello, how are you he asked.
Ok, I replied.
He asked if I wouldn’t mind him using the cycle next to mine and as I couldn’t think of an objection we started cycling together. He asked all the normal chatty things about weather, holidays, family, this location, where I lived, what it was like for shops and schools and things like that, and said his name was John Mc something, possibly mcmillan and I guessed he was in his early 40s.
I told him mine was Janine.
I noticed he was always looking at me as we spoke and I wondered what he was thinking, was he just being friendly or was he thinking other things. He decided he would also join me in the pool and as I changed into my swimsuit I smiled at myself thinking I’ve got a new friend.
Since my other friend stopped coming because she felt she wasn’t losing weight I had to come on my own and I felt a little happier I had someone to talk to even though it was a man.
We said goodbye as we went to the changing rooms to shower and dress and when I said I was coming back on Thursday he said he’d also be there and would I mind if he joined me again.
I said I wouldn’t, thinking what else could I say.
On Wednesday night I gathered my gym kit and swimsuit together for the following day and my husband asked where I was going with it, to which I replied to the gym. He seemed to have forgotten that I usually went once or twice every week such was his interest in what I did while he was at work.
“Hope there’s no young men there seeing you in those,” he said.
“Why, what’s wrong with them, besides there’s only pensioners if anyone at all,” I replied, not mentioning the Scottish man.
“Phworr, short shorts, top hugging your lovely boobs and then a swimsuit so thin you can make out the shape of your boobs and nips as well as see your lovely arse and sexy legs, enough to give anyone a hard on.”
I told him off for being dirty minded but then began to think about what if he was right and what if my “friend” had a similar opinion.
I’d never considered myself overly attractive, smaller than ideal at 5’3, not as slim as id like to be but apart from a tummy that needed a bit of work after having two babies I was otherwise ok and my legs and face were ok, and my less endowed friends always used to comment about what I lost in height I made up with by my 36d boobs.
The same sort of sequence began to happen every alternate week, met in the gym exchanged hello’s, some chat in the pool and the sauna, said goodbye as we walked the corridor from the gym to the hotel entrance, me going to the car park, him staying inside.
I found myself becoming comfortable with our meetings and perhaps subconsciously made sure I looked presentable rather than wear my old track suit that I used to wear.
One day in the corridor he asked if I knew somewhere to catch a lunchtime drink and a bite to eat away from the bahis firmaları hotel. I mentioned the next nearest place I could think of and he asked if I would like to join him. I became flustered, not knowing what to say, and blurted out “I have to meet someone soon.”
He calmly said “ok, do you have an appointment after every visit here,” to which I hastily and then regrettably replied “no just today.”
“OK, how about Thursday then,” he said.
What could I say? I hesitated trying to think of another excuse but my head was spinning and as I realised I was beginning to look stupid by not answering I said “errm, ohh, ok then, I cant stay too long though.”
Thursday came and we ended up going for lunch, with me driving the short distance to the pub. It was very busy and I was nervous about being recognised. Wearing my jeans and a t-shirt I thought at least no-one will think I’ve dressed up for the occasion, like they perhaps might have done on some other occasions when I’d been to the gym knowing he’d be there.
He cleared his plate and finished his drink while I was only about half way through mine and asked if I wanted another drink.
I pushed my plate away saying I was full but if he wanted another drink I would buy seeing as he had already paid.
“No, no,” he said as he got up and went to the bar, allowing me to catch up with my drink.
After we finished our drinks I made my excuses to leave and luckily he agreed, although I noticed he looked at the front of my t-shirt a few times after our meal. He thanked me for relieving his boredom by having lunch with him as he got out of the car, and we said goodbye and I drove speedily home, thinking what if someone has seen me in the pub with him or in the car, thinking how nervous I felt yet how silly I was as it was only a drink and a bite to eat.
I missed Tuesday (usually need to have a few days off every month) but went on Thursday and to my surprise he was there. He told me he had asked for longer assignments here, and when I asked why, he said “nicer people” and smiled.
I felt myself blush as I assumed he meant me, or it could have been the people he worked with. After our session we changed and then as usual he was lingering in the corridor to say goodbye. I noticed he looked me up and down approvingly and I felt pleased that I had put some nice clothes on before I came. I had a black and white check skirt that was a little above the knee, black low heel shoes, a white blouse with a deep half-circle neck that showed some of my cleavage, and the material was quite thin allowing my bra to be identified underneath.
He asked if he could take my bag to the car and I said it was ok as he already had his to carry.
He asked if I fancied lunch and I said I couldn’t eat the big meals that the pub did.
He then asked if id like a quick drink in the hotel bar saying it was usually deserted before midday. As it was just approaching midday I decided it might be ok to have one drink.
We went in and sure enough it was deserted,
“lets sit over here,” he said nodding to the corner and placing his bag on the floor leaving me to sit down while he got the drinks.
I thanked him when he came back and noticed him look at my legs as he sat down. He probably looked at me often in the pool and gym and sauna, but seeing him look at me outside of that environment gave me a different sort of feeling.
We chatted, nothing in particular but again I noticed him occasionally glancing at my legs. I realised that by sitting down, my skirt had risen to show more leg than I usually do but I felt I couldn’t try to pull it down as it would be obvious I’d seen him looking at me. The bar begin to fill and I declined the offer of another drink, becoming nervous I might be recognised.
“How about a coffee,” he said.
I looked around as though to say, ‘I don’t want to be seen here’.
“I could make you one in my room if you don’t want to risk being seen in here,” he said, seemingly reading my thoughts, “besides I’d like your opinion on my room size and if you think I could get a better place somewhere else.”
I could feel myself panicking — should I risk staying in the bar, no, do I want to dash home when I’ve nothing planned for the afternoon, not really, do I want to go to his room, possibly not, but will I cause offence by not going unless I can think of a quick excuse.
With my head spinning I couldn’t hope to think of an excuse and almost spluttered “erm, ohh, erm, ok then.”
I immediately thought I’d made the wrong decision as I saw him look directly at my breasts as I got to my feet. Pretending not to notice I picked up my bag, then almost cringed and silently cursed myself as I realised that by bending to pick up my bag he would have had a clear view down the front of my blouse.
Sure enough there was a big smile on his face, and again I pretended I didn’t know what had happened as I briefly smiled kaçak iddaa in a vacant sort of way.
As he led me away I clamped my lips together, frowning and again silently cursing myself, cross that I’d agreed to go to his room, knowing that he’d been looking at my legs, knowing that he’d been looking at my cleavage, knowing that he’d even seen goodness knows what down the front of my blouse.
Even though I knew he’d seen me in a swimsuit, this was different. We walked the corridors in silence, thankfully not seeing another person, until he turned to smile at me and said “here we are.” I smiled back, telling myself I was here for a coffee and to give an opinion on his room as we walked in.
We put our bags near the door and walked in.
“You ok if I take my socks and shoes off,” he asked, “my feet aren’t sweaty now and I want to keep them that way as long as I can.”
I laughed and said go ahead.
“So what do you think of the room?” he asked.
“Oh its about normal for this type of place isn’t it?” I replied.
“Yeah, do you think I should put up with it or ask for a move,” he asked, as though I was some sort of authority on bedrooms.
“It looks ok to me,” I said.
“Aye, you’re probably right,” he replied as he filled the kettle and plugged it in.
I relaxed a little seeing that he was indeed going to make a coffee.
“Sit down,” he offered politely, and looking around there was a chair under the writing table facing a mirror, a chair near a coffee table but full of papers and folders, and then the double bed nearest to where I was standing so I sat down on that.
“Ah well, its nay as good as your house I’m sure but its ma home for now,” he said in a resigned sort of way in his strong accent as he sat beside me.
“Its not bad, and you get waited on more than if you were at home,” I said, trying to cheer him up.
“Aye, true, and I get to make you a drink which I wouldn’t if I wasn’t here,” he said more cheerfully.
I smiled and then he said “you’ve a beautiful smile…… and face.”
I could feel myself beginning to blush, not knowing what to say, then he added “and beautiful legs too,” looking down at my legs.
“In fact you’re beautiful all over,” he added, looking at my cleavage before my face.
I knew I couldn’t conceal my reddening cheeks and laughed, saying “I don’t think I am.”
“Well let me tell you bonny lassie, you’re absolutely fantastic in every way,” he added.
I smiled, thinking gosh what do I say now, as I felt his right arm rest across the back of my shoulders.
I remember swallowing hard, feeling my cheeks burning as he smiled at me, and then feeling total confusion as he kissed my cheek.
“Are you pleased or offended that I find you attractive,” he asked, with his arm still around me.
“P-pleased … I think,” I spluttered.
“You should be, because you are,” he smiled again and this time moved his mouth to my lips and kissed me again.
I was now in a state of confusion, I wanted to stop but couldn’t, I wanted to stand up yet didn’t, I wanted to object when he briefly stopped yet stayed silent as he then kissed me again for longer.
I gasped as he stopped, trying to smile but unable to do so, seemingly lost my ability to talk or do anything else for that matter. He smiled and kissed me again, and I found myself kissing back, gasping again as I felt his left hand stroke and then squeeze my right breast.
I gasped open-mouthed as he squeezed me harder causing my nipple to stiffen and add to my lack of self control. His tongue slid into my mouth as I began to feel dizzy, placing my right hand on his left forearm but unable to bring myself to apply any downward force.
Our tongues darted into each others mouths and I suddenly became aware my blouse buttons were being undone.
“Stand up sweetheart,” John whispered, and although I did I also stuttered “J-john w-we can’t do this I’m m-married.”
“No one’s going to know darling,” he said as basically he ignored me and pushed my blouse off my shoulders and off my arms as it dropped to the floor.
I tried to begin to object but was stopped by his kiss as his hands roamed my back eventually unclipping my bra and then pulling it off me.
If my cheeks were blushing before they were burning up now as I stood topless in front of someone I hardly knew. I knew I shouldn’t have had that drink, I knew I shouldn’t have come to his room and I knew I shouldn’t have let him kiss me, but it was now too late as I stood with him, undeniably aroused and undeniably enjoying being regarded as a sexy woman and not just a married mum and wife.
I continued gasping and closed my eyes as he began to suck my nipples, and knew exactly where this was leading (as if I hadn’t guessed) as I felt the button and zip of my skirt being undone before it dropped to the floor. He began to kiss my breasts and stomach and I noticed he was quickly removing kaçak bahis his clothes. He picked me up slightly and positioned me in the centre of the bed, kissing my knees and my thighs as I lay down and looked at the ceiling still in disbelief that I was doing this. I bit my lip and closed my eyes tightly as I felt both his hands grip my briefs and pull them down. How can a happily married woman do this I asked myself silently, yet at the same time had no intention of making it stop.
He pushed my legs apart and I expected him to start moving up on me but moaned again as I felt his tongue on me, arching my back as it entered me.
I remember thinking I hope the walls aren’t thin as if anyone is next door they will have surely heard some of my moans.
He quickly found my clitoris and his hands reached up to my breasts pinching my nipples. I couldn’t control my self as my body began jerking as John became the only man other than my husband to have sex with me since I married.
Having made me come he now slowly kissed my stomach as I began to catch my breath again.
“How was that darling,” he asked as he used his knees to part my legs a little wider.
I smiled, still unable to speak as his hand moved between us.
I wondered if he had had the snip as he didn’t ask if I was on contraception, but luckily I was.
He moved his penis to my entrance and my body jerked spontaneously as I felt it touch me.
I couldn’t help moaning as it went into me and have to admit my eyes and mouth widened as I felt its size and length enter me.
“How’s that darling,” John gasped.
“Good,” I gasped back.
“Open you legs wider so I can get right into you darling,” John asked in a matter of fact way.
I found myself doing as he asked, amazed that I should obey an instruction so easily, amazed that I was letting another man have me, amazed that I was actually enjoying what was happening.
I moaned loudly again as he pushed right into me, and then held onto the back of his neck as he started moving in and out of me. He wasn’t much taller or heavier than my husband but his penis was certainly bigger. Every inward thrust made me moan “ohh” and as he quickened so did my verbal reactions.
“Oh yes, this is good,” he commented.
He straightened his arms and looked down on me, watching my breasts shake with every thrust and said “oh yessss, look at that going into you,” knowing full well I couldn’t see but I could feel.
“Oh this is good, is it good for you darling?” he asked as he continued thrusting into me.
“Yes,” I gasped.
“I’ve thought about doing this to you since I first set eyes on you,” he stated, as though I should be pleased.
“I bet you’ve thought about doing it with me haven’t you?” he continued.
I was silent, “haven’t you?, come on be honest,” he pressed.
“Yes,” I gasped, almost disbelieving my answer, was this really me talking?
He dropped his body down onto me, thrusting even harder, making me moan louder.
“Put your legs round me,” he ordered, and like an obedient servant I did as he said.
Moaning “ohhh,” as I felt him go even faster and harder.
“Mmmmm, we can do this more often now we’ve broke the ice can’t we darling,” he asked as though talking during sex was easy for him.
“Cant we?” he pressed, but I couldn’t answer as the speed with which he was doing it to me was taking my breath away.
“Come on be honest, you love a good fucking don’t you?, and you’re certainly a good fuck, but then I knew you would be.”
I was amazed at what I was hearing, as though he knew this would happen.
“Come on be honest you want fucking again don’t you?” he said as he got faster and harder still.
I could hardly take anymore, gasping to his every thrust, his breath was shorter too, I sensed he was nearly there.
“We’re going do it regularly now aren’t we, aren’t we,” as all I could do was moan “ohh, ohh,” as he relentlessly pounded into me.
“Aren’t we?” he repeated, until I gasped “yes.”
It was as though I’d flicked a switch and he groaned and slowed down and I knew he was coming.
I began to feel tearful, upset that I’d done what I had just done, upset that I’d enjoyed what I had just done.
John kissed my forehead probably thinking I was recovering from his energetic activity rather than reflecting on what I had done.
“What time must you go,” he asked.
“I had better make a move now,” I replied.
“Do you want me to walk you to your car,” he offered.
“No I don’t want to risk us being seen,” I replied.
We got up and began dressing.
“Shall we come straight here on Tuesday or do you want to go to the gym first?” he asked.
I was shocked that he was already thinking about next week and I said I wanted to go to the gym. We kissed goodbye and I walked to the car, passing people smiling who were probably being friendly or not even really noticing me but my thoughts were things like, do they know what I’ve been doing, had they heard us, had they seen us.
I drove home, feeling the juices moving slowly to my panties, and thinking about what would happen the following week.
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